


Some Things are Better

by qualitygarbage



Series: In the Grand Scale of Things [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Body Image, Bottom Patrick, Dirty Dancing, Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, I'm Sorry, M/M, Open Relationships, Pete has a fat fetish, Platonic Kissing, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Self-Harm, Some Plot, Weight Issues, Weight Kink, minor pain kink, this is a trigger fuck, top pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qualitygarbage/pseuds/qualitygarbage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know what they're all saying about me, Pete?" Pete only raised his eyebrows, allowing Patrick to continue. "On the YouTube comments? 'Patrick is so cute, he's adorable now he's gained weight.' 'He's all fluffy again.'" His eyes were red and burning now as he fought the urge to cry. "The kids can all see it, Pete. They all know I'm getting fat again." He sniffled and pushed his plate away slightly before continuing. "And you know what makes less sense? When I was really fat, they all said I was gross. Even though I was the lead singer, Pete, you had to step up to be the face of the band because nobody wanted to look at a 'fat trucker'." He adjusted his glasses and sighed. "I actually sort of liked the attention I got from being skinny. My fans are so sweet and they draw me things and send me pictures. I can't betray them by being ugly again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things are Better

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. I guess this is my debut fanfiction on AO3. And look it's porn wow. This is also my first time writing porn. Like ever. In the history of forever. I haven't posted fanfiction since fanfiction.net way back in the day. And it was shit. It was all garbage. I've been so scarred by the monstrosities I posted that I didn't post fanfiction for years. I kept writing it; I just kept it in my folders. But this is my return fic. I wrote it just to introduce myself to AO3. I was deeply inspired by "Feast" (which is orphaned. That sucks, this is hands down my favorite FOB fic) and "If Only for One Night" (by OhCaptainMyCaptain, a Stucky fanfiction. I'll link both of these at the end) I was mostly a goody two shoes on ff.net. I only posted humor and crack humor. Sometimes fluff. 100% garbage (of course, I thought it was amazing at the time). I wanted to return with porn so I could return with a vengeance. Also, how do I get in the loop on here? How do I participate in the challenges, prompts, and events that happen here? How do I get a beta? HMU friends.
> 
> And another thing. This is hella long. Wow. I'm sorry this is so long. It's about 19,500 words and it's one chapter and the plan was around 6,000 but lol. It's funny, because when I posted my shit that I thought was great on ff.net, it barely ever scrapped 1k words. How the tables have tabled.
> 
> Lastly, I want to point out, this fic is a trigger-fuck. If you are trying to recover from an eating disorder, feel like you are developing an eating disorder, or just have an unhealthy relationship with yourself, please seek help. I have been bulimic on and off (relapse/recovery/relapse) for about six years now and I am currently diagnosed. I am not in recovery right now, but I am definitely pro-recovery. This bitch has me by the throat. It's hell. Writing about this, even though this is about anorexia not bulimia, helps me cope. IDK. But yeah, major trigger-fuck ahead.
> 
> Love ya, thanks!

Pete scratched idly at his belly as he watched the sun rise up from his kitchen window. As much as he loved being on tour with his best friends, he always loved being able to spend time in his own house. It was large and quiet. Most days that was just what he needed, but at other times, the place just made him lonely. He sighed to himself with content as he ran his hand through his now shorter hair. The hiatus was good for him—if anything he used the time to grow up and grow a fashion sense.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a coffee mug. It was one that Patrick made him. Most of his mugs happened to be made by Patrick. He loved giving Pete coffee mugs for some reason that Pete didn't quite understand, but he loved the gesture, and he loved the mugs. Pete pulled his arms over his head and twisted himself until he felt a good stretch in his sides. He loved Saturday mornings.

He pulled out his Keurig stand and got out a nice, strong, dark coffee and loaded the machine. Pete then walked over to his fridge. It was mostly empty; he didn't stock much food because he rarely had time to eat it. A brief frown crossed his face as he wondered what Patrick's refrigerator looked like—it was probably completely empty. Pete sighed and pulled out bread and jam. He crossed the kitchen back to the toaster at his counter. He folded his arms as he waited, trying to come up with what to even do once breakfast was over. Just as he was spreading the jam on his toast, he heard the front door swing open and closed again. Today wouldn't be spent alone after all.

Pete didn't turn around or stop what he was doing when he heard a chair being pulled out as someone plopped down. He just pulled out the Keurig carousel and put the hazelnut blend into the machine.

"Do you want anything to eat with your coffee?" Pete asked as he reached for a second mug.

"What do you think I'm going to say?"

Pete didn't have to turn around to know Patrick was pulling a smug smile through his sad and broken reply. He walked back over to the fridge and pulled out a bagel and the tub of cream cheese—Patrick's favorite breakfast which he frequently refrained himself from having. It was "a whole day's worth of calories" as Patrick liked to put it.

Pete turned around and looked at Patrick for the first time once he finished preparing the bagel and the hazel nut coffee with a generous amount of sugar and cream. He made it just the way Patrick loves it yet refuses to let himself have. According to Patrick, "liquid calories are always a mistake."

He had a sweet smile on his face as he presented Patrick's meal to him. "Exactly that, baby." He kissed his best friend on his forehead. "How are you today?"

Patrick picked at his food unhappily, but he pinched a hard smile on his face. Pete could see the calorie calculations going on behind Patrick's eyes. He didn't look at Pete as he answered, "I'm okay, Pete."

Pete frowned as he ruffled his best friend's hair, which was a difficult feat due to Patrick's ever present fedora. "No you're not, 'Trick. It's okay to not be okay all the time." He could tell exactly what happened by the look in Patrick's eyes. "Do you want to say how much it was?"

He looked up at Pete over the rims of his glasses, his eyes glossy with sadness. He opened his mouth as he began to answer, but quickly closed it and opted for shaking his head instead. "Not really. A lot."

Pete pulled a smile at him before going back to grab his food from the counter before returning to sit down next to Patrick at the round breakfast table. He suddenly felt very self-conscious about his breakfast. Black coffee with some jammed toast was probably what Patrick would want for breakfast, if he decided to even eat breakfast at all. The toast would also be subbed for something like a rice cake. He could tell from the look that Patrick was giving him that he noticed as well. Pete looked back with sorry eyes, and he hoped Patrick would understand. He actually enjoyed this breakfast—a lot. He also wondered what triggered this relapse. Patrick was doing so well before.

"You know what they're all saying about me, Pete?" Pete only raised his eyebrows, allowing Patrick to continue. "On the YouTube comments? 'Patrick is so cute, he's adorable now he's gained weight.' 'He's all fluffy again.'" His eyes were red and burning now as he fought the urge to cry. "The kids can all see it, Pete. They all know I'm getting fat again." He sniffled and pushed his plate away slightly before continuing. "And you know what makes less sense? When I was really fat, they all said I was gross. Even though I was the lead singer, Pete, you had to step up to be the face of the band because nobody wanted to look at a 'fat trucker'." He adjusted his glasses and sighed. "I actually sort of liked the attention I got from being skinny. My fans are so sweet and they draw me things and send me pictures. I can't betray them by being ugly again."

Pete took a long sip of his coffee as he tried to figure out what to say. He placed his mug back down and looked back at Patrick with a nervous smile. "We all became a little different after the hiatus, 'Trick." He gave a bit of a stronger smile now. "Andy got clean, my 'emo phase' ended, Joe… um… he complains less? But main thing here, 'Trick, you got healthy."

Patrick looked at him with raised eyebrows and confused eyes.

"C'mon, 'Trick. Don't tell me you didn't know. You're beautiful and cute. You're adorable—always have been. But you know you weren't healthy while you were working on Soul Punk. You were too small; you didn't weigh enough. You were sick and you weren't very happy either."

The younger man lifted his hat and quickly placed it back down. Pete recognized it immediately as a sign of Patrick becoming uncomfortable so he didn't press the subject even further although there was more he wanted to say. Another time would come.

"Eat half?" He frowned at Patrick's pout face. "I'll eat it with you." Pete said with a mischievous smile and chuckle. He reached to Patrick's plate and picked up half of the bagel. He took a slow bite as he stared Patrick down, careful to not get too much spit on the bagel. He didn't want it to be gross. He smiled when he saw Patrick's lip quiver slightly. "Take a bite?" He held the remains of the bagel in his hand out to Patrick. He made sure to hold it a comfortable distance from his mouth. "Please?" He lowered his voice. "It will be like kissing me."

"I could just actually kiss you." Patrick countered, folding his arms.

"I won't let you kiss me unless you eat half of this bagel and drink half of your coffee.

"You prick." He lightly smiled and shook his head. He reached up to grab the bagel, but Pete slapped his hand away. He wagged his finger, and Patrick sighed. He reluctantly opened his mouth and waited for feel of the soft bread and smooth cream to brush against his tongue. He took a bite and looked up at Pete with wide innocent eyes.

"Damn, that's hot." Pete grounded out.

Patrick looked up with brief, yet adorable confusion crossing his face. He gave a playful smile as he watched Pete take a bite out of a slice of his bread with strawberry jam on top. He gripped Pete's shoulders the second he put the toast down. Patrick looked into Pete's confused eyes as he licked his own lips before licking Pete's.

It was hot. A little too hot for nine a.m. in Pete's opinion. He pushed Patrick away before the erotic lip-lapping could turn into a kiss. He smiled at the disbelief on Patrick's face. "Thanks, baby. I love you, but a promise is a promise."

"Pete," Patrick drew out his name in a jokey whine as he rubbed his best friend's thighs.

"Don't make me change it to seventy five percent, Patty Cakes." He placed his hands on top of Patrick's to still them. Way. Too. Early.

Patrick sunk back down into his seat. Pete exhaled and took another sip of his coffee. He watched as Patrick took the first sip of his own coffee. Pete noticed the mixed reaction as Patrick seemingly enjoyed yet regretted the taste all at once.

"Will you go out with me today?" Patrick asked hopefully.

"Yeah, of course, baby." Pete could never resist Patrick when he asked him out. He just looked too cute. There was also the fact that they didn't get to go out much. Trapped between tour and rehearsal, whenever they did have time to see each other, it was usually just spent under the sheets. "Just finish eating first, okay?"

Patrick nodded and took a very small bite from his bagel. Pete pulled it out of his hand and took a bigger, less sexual, bite. When he looked up, he realized it still made Patrick hot. Pete wondered silently to himself if Patrick had a thing for watching Pete eating. He shrugged it off as he gulped some of Patrick's coffee. He winced at the sweetness and lightness of the drink.

"Where do you want to go?" Patrick asked before he took the last bite of the bagel half.

"I dunno, where do you wanna go?" Pete joked with a short version of his signature laugh.

"Oh shut up!" He shoved Pete playfully on the shoulder. He took a huge gulp of his coffee so it would be halfway empty. "Will you kiss me now?"

Pete inspected the plate and peered into mug. "Mm-hm. C'mere." Pete crooked his finger to call Patrick over.

"Thank goodness!" Patrick draped his arms around his best friend's neck as he plopped himself on Pete's lap.

"Thank you, Patrick." Pete said sincerely; he didn’t need to clarify what for.

Patrick removed one arm to rub gently at Pete's chest through his shirt. He flicked his eyes up and locked his with Pete's. "I love you, Pete."

Pete inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes. He was in bliss. "I love you too, Patty Cakes."                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

They locked eyes as Patrick rose up on Pete's lap and gave one more smile before attacking his boyfriend's lips.

Patrick removed his other arm from Pete's neck to rub his hands all around his boyfriend's chest and sides. Pete moaned into the kiss, his open mouth took it from chaste to hot in mere seconds. Pete moved his hands to Patrick's lower back as he lightly groped at the skin there. When Patrick began to adjust his placement on Pete's lap to start grinding into him, Pete placed his hands at his hips to hold him still.

"'Trick… 'Trick baby, look at me." He fought out around Patrick's lips. "Patrick wait."

"Pete, what?" Patrick complained. When he pulled away, his lips were wet and shiny. He bit one side of his lower lip between his teeth. "Something wrong?"

Pete swallowed hard. Patrick looked so ripe; he was making stopping this too difficult. "Let's push this later."

"What?" Patrick's mouth was ajar in disbelief. "But… but I ate the food—"

"Yeah, and I said you would get a kiss, which you did."

"But why don't you want to…?" Patrick suddenly became very aware of his weight on Pete's lap. He crossed his arms over his stomach as he stood up. "I am so sorry." He chocked out. "Pete, I'm so…"

"'Trick baby, please. Do you really think that's the reason?" He watched as the clarity took time to reach Patrick's head as his expression slowly changed. He turned his head back to Pete and shook his head. He got up and stepped close to Patrick so that their chests were touching. He placed a hand on the small of Patrick's lower back. "I really want to have sex with you. Patrick, I just want to drape you over this table, pry your legs open, and fuck you so hard."

"Oh," Patrick cried out weakly as he grounded his crotch into Pete's. "That sounds so good. Please. Do it."

Pete placed his hands on Patrick's hips to halt the grinding. "But we never get to go out. Patrick, I really hate treating you like a casual fuck. We just pop into each other's houses, have sex, and leave. I feel like we only really see each other when we're on tour." He stepped back and ran his hand through his hair. "I love you, Patrick. But I want to treat you right. I want us to have a real date. As much as I want to fuck you raw, I want to feel you romantically even more."

Patrick's face was heated a deep shade of red. "I love you so much, Pete. I'm really sorry we don't spend more time together doing couple things. I really want to be with you."

"I know that 'Trick. Going out today was your idea, remember?"

He nodded and smiled up at Pete.

"And uh, one more thing…" He trailed off and scratched his head, looking away sheepishly.

"What? What is it, Pete?"

"Ah, you know what? Never mind. It wasn't important."

"Oh, okay…" Patrick didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't want to press the subject since Pete appeared so uncomfortable with it.

"You know what I need, 'Trick? New duds. Let's go shopping!" Pete flared his legs out and added jazz hands to his goofy stance. Patrick clapped and laughed at his best friend's little scene. "But I can't go out dressed like this, I'm still in my nighties." Pete gestured to his maroon shirt and navy boxers. "Will you get me some clothes please? I'll wear whatever you like, but stay away from any early two-thousands artifacts, okay? I'll finish up breakfast for us and clean up."

"You know I'm just going to bring you the first t-shirt and jeans I find, right?" Patrick grinned.

"Fine with me." He smiled back.

"Love you." Patrick gave a quick peck to Pete before turning around to run off. Pete took the opportunity of his back turned to give Patrick a hard slap on the ass. "Ow…" Patrick rubbed at his sore spot. "Pete…" He dragged his boyfriend's name out again for a mock-whine.

Pete did a bad impression of a southern accent, "Get me my clothes, bitch!"

"Fuck you!" Patrick gave Pete the finger as he ran to the stairs.

Pete shook his head and laughed as he finished off his breakfast before starting on Patrick's. He felt a pang of guilt in his gut when he realized that Patrick probably didn't eat half of his breakfast. Yes there was half left, but if Pete was helping him out, Patrick might have had a fourth of his breakfast at best. Pete swore to do better next time as he finished off the meals and collected the dishes.

He was drying the last mug when Patrick reemerged around the corner. "Get dressed, Pete." Patrick beamed at him. He walked into the living room with Pete trailing behind him.

Pete reached for the hem of his shirt when Patrick stopped him.

"Please, let me." Patrick begged, biting his lower lip. Pete nodded and Patrick began working at his shirt. "You should've expected this."

"I did."

Patrick worked Pete's shirt off and he backed away so Pete could start dressing himself with the clothes Patrick picked out for him… which just so happened to extremely mimic his own. Pete wasn't even sure when he bought that black cardigan. But then again, it could very well had belonged to Patrick originally. Patrick had coordinated it with a plain round-neck navy t-shirt and tight black pants. Pete knew that if it was any colder out, the black cardigan would be replaced by a black leather jacket with intricate zipper patter. He would probably even throw in a scarf too. It wasn't that he didn't like the outfit, it was just so very… Patrick.

Pete pulled on a tight lipped smile as he slipped the clothes on. He looked at Patrick who was wearing a near replica of his outfit. He was wearing a burgundy shirt and his cardigan was not made for such petite men; the sleeves extended past his hands.  "So this was the first outfit you stumbled on?"

He smiled shyly. "Oh wait, there's one more thing." Pete half expected him to pull out a fedora from thin air, but he received a shock when he saw what Patrick pulled out from the inside pocket of his cardigan. It was exactly what Pete told him not to bring, an artifact from 2007. Luckily it was only Pete's old hat. A knitted one with grey stripes and a skull and crossbones applicate on the side. Where did he even find this thing?

"Hats are our thing, man." Patrick encouraged hopefully.

"What did I say about artifacts?"

"It's just a hat. Be grateful I got you some real sensible clothes in the first place." Patrick rocked back on his heels. "You said you'd wear whatever I'd like."

Pete chuckled as he rolled his eyes, but he took the hat anyway. "Okay, dude. For you only."

Patrick stepped up on his toes and placed his hands on Pete's collar bones. "Be grateful I didn't bring you the matching fingerless gloves."

He hummed lightly in response. "You should be the grateful one, because I'd shove them up your ass." He gave Patrick a quick kiss on the lips.

"Oh so should I get them then?"

Pete shoved him off jokingly. "Shut up you whore." He picked up his wallet from the living room table. "Ready to go, 'Trick?"

"Yeah," Patrick pulled open the door for the two of them. "Let's take public transport."

"Why?" Pete asked as he followed him outside. "You planning on getting us drunk or something?"

"No, Pete. I just don't feel like driving through the streets of downtown Chicago on a Saturday to—where are you going? The mall?—I hate trying to find a parking space. Plus, we can meet more fans if we take the train. The kids would be so happy."

He nodded and smiled. It was always great meeting fans, they were always so happy, some even cried. And on a plus note, they weren't exactly "A-listers" so getting swarmed or worrying about the "stalker-razzi" wouldn't be such a huge problem. They could even bet on getting there without being stopped once.

They ended up getting stopped four times, and one girl did cry. They gave honest hugs and smiles during the pictures and autographed all the odd objects brought to them. Patrick enjoyed the whole thing, but people taking "sneaky" photos of him always made him feel uncomfortable. He could only pray it wasn't the paparazzi trying to find his fattest angle to apply Photoshop to. But he was glad for this openly close friendship with Pete. People often didn't question their closeness—Pete had his arm around Patrick's shoulders as they walked while Patrick wrapped an arm around his waist. The only people who would make something out of the touching would be the writers of 'fanfiction', which Patrick did his best to pretend to hate.

"Remember when you used to drag me into Hot Topic with you?" Patrick joked as soon as they walked through the grand mall entrance.

"Shut up." Pete gave him a hard but playful punch on the arm. Patrick pouted and rubbed the sore area.

The mall that they arrived in did not have a Hot Topic in it. It was a very "A-listers only" type mall. There was not anything worth buying priced less than $200 here. The only people who could afford this mall were people who made doctors seem poor. The duo occasionally felt out of place when shopping here, especially when passing other more famous celebrities. And they did need to be at least semi-aware of price tags here or else they could end up dropping well over $1,000 in a single store. A lot of the employees could be rude and snobbish at times too, especially if they didn't recognize Patrick and Pete as actual celebrities. Also, Pete had one of his clothing outlets located here. He often told Patrick it was one of the few places where he could get away with insane upcharges.

Patrick bit at his cuticles idly. "What do you need, Pete?" He asked while simultaneously looking for a place to sit down. He wondered why Pete even wanted to go clothing shopping with him—both of them were the worst people to go clothing shopping with since they were both very particular about what is and is not allowed to be a part of their wardrobe. Andy and Joe mostly just wore whatever so they were super easy to shop with.

"Well," Pete trailed off he waited until Patrick made eye contact with him before continuing. "I was thinking we could both get something… something 'incognito'."

Patrick gave him a bored, blank face. Pete smiled devilishly and aggressively wiggled his eyebrows. Patrick's face began to heat up when he realized what Pete was hinting at. He touched a hand to his heated cheeks before quickly giving an unneeded adjustment to his glasses. "Pete, we haven't done that in so long! And we're more famous now… phones these days make it so easy for pictures to get out of hand—you know that, sorry—it's too risky!"

Clubs. Pete was hinting at going to a club. More specifically, a gay club.

"Come on 'Trick! We used to do it all the time and we've never gotten caught. People are always too busy minding their own business at clubs. Just don't talk to too many people." Patrick looked down and nodded reluctantly. Pete gave a huge smile, "I'm thinking our disguises tonight should be complete utter douchebag. We could even wear those shutter shades things that Brendon loves."

"Won't that be a little much?"

"Not really. I was on Grindr not too long ago—stop that, I can feel you judging me—and I found out about this new over the top raunchy club. It's less than a year old, but it's like the floodgates to the freaks were opened. It's not like any club I've ever been to before, 'Trick. I didn't stay for more than an hour because I was just so badly wishing you were there."

"Pete, that sounds really scary actually." Patrick commented as he bit his lip. It was true, he was very nervous about it. Getting caught in that club would make Pete's dick pic seem like nothing compared to the story that would overtake their worlds if the two best friends were discovered in such a racy club. Still, Pete could see the excitement hiding in Patrick's eyes.

"So you don't want to go?" Pete asked with a dark smile and raised eyebrows.

Patrick fiddled with his fingers. "Well, I never said that…"

Pete smiled wildly and grabbed Patrick's hand. "Thanks, 'Trick." He pulled Patrick into the most "dude bro" store he could find; it was probably owned by a big time rapper. The two of them took their time enjoying trying on different outfits in a very sitcom fashion before finally settling with outfits that completely hid their true nature without looking like they were trying too hard. They only dropped about $3,000.

They left the mall and strolled through the metropolitan area of the city; Pete's arm around Patrick's shoulders and Patrick's arm around Pete's waist. They talked about everything as they walked. They covered all from the weather to the band and to the private thoughts in their minds.

The two of them sat on a bench in front of a colorfully illuminated fountain as they continued to shoot the shit. It wasn't too long before Pete heard Patrick's stomach growling. He didn’t say anything, he only gave Patrick a knowing look to see what bullshit excuse he would pull out this time.

"I've been taking a lot of probiotics…"

Pete ran his hand down his face and sighed. "That one makes it into the top ten. What are you feeling for lunch?"

Patrick only shrugged and looked away in response.

"Okay… well I think we should get pizza."

"You always want pizza." Patrick looked up at him with the saddest eyes he could muster.

It was true, Pete knew it. He always felt bad for having an inhumanly strong affinity for one of Patrick's greatest fear foods, but he couldn't help it; pizza is the shit. "But pizza is so rad. Plus, we're in Chicago. It's basically a crime to pass up on the pizza here."

"Pete. We live in Chicago."

"I see that as not only a blessing, but a mission." He put a fist to his chest for a dramatic effect.

"Pete listen." Patrick said in a very no-nonsense tone as he looked up at Pete. His expression appeared very dark and grim. "If I eat pizza now, don't expect me to eat at all the rest of the day. I'm being serious."

"Patrick…"

"I am fat." Pete saw Patrick's Adam's apple bob in his throat and he knew Patrick was fighting tears. "My shirts are getting tighter on me, Pete. I'm so mad. It's not fair." Pete attempted to put his arms out to calm his friend, but his hands were quickly slapped away. Patrick rubbed his upper arms as he tried to comfort himself. "It's not fair that the media has its eyes on me because I was obese before. We're all getting old, we're supposed to put on a bit, but every pound I gain is put in the limelight with a huge red circle around it. And they're doing some sweet Photoshopping skills to make sure they get my most glamourous angles. I want to lose the weight again, and I have to do it the only way I know how."

"I know from experience that this probably won't help much, but you're not fat, Patrick. Not at all." Pete fidgeted with his hands awkwardly; he wanted to place them on Patrick's shoulders, but he was obviously refraining from all touches at the moment. "You respect my opinion right?"

Patrick drew in a deep breath. "I do respect your opinion. But I also know that you would rather take a bullet than hurt my feelings." He lifted his hat for a few seconds to run his and through his hair and sighed deeply. "I'm really bordering on being overweight and it's not my mind saying that, it's the actual scale."

"But-"

"Not obese like I was before, but I'm leaving the healthy weight zone. That's a fact"

Pete swallowed hard. "You know that being a bit overweight won't make you instantly unhealthy, right? And It won't make you unattractive—quite the contrary actually." Pete's breath hitched, he wasn't planning on letting out the last part. He secretly hoped Patrick didn't catch it.

When he stole a glance over at Patrick, he didn't look shocked or confused. He looked like he was lost in thought. It didn't look like he was paying too much attention. Pete slowly let out a shaky breath. "We can go to a restaurant and you can order a salad. How about that?"

Patrick didn't look up; he only shrugged in response. "Thanks."

Pete stood up from the bench and turned back around to stretch his hand out for Patrick. "I love you."

He finally looked up and made eye contact with Pete; his expression was unreadable. He gripped Pete's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. "I love you too."

When the duo arrived at the restaurant, the hostess asked if they wanted VIP seating which the two quickly refused. They were never the type to stray away from fans. The place was nearly deserted anyway. There were maybe only two or three other tables being used as the lunch rush had just ended. Also, Patrick really wanted a booth seat by the window. They sat across from each other and Patrick adjusted himself on the seat so that he was sitting crisscross-apple-sauce.

Pete gave a mock sexy growl as he batted his hand out like a paw. "You're so cute when you sit like that. It really turns me on."

Patrick flushed and slapped Pete's hand. "Oh hush. It's comfortable. And stop being so horny all the time; you're an adult not a sixth grader."

"But I can't help being horny around you, baby." He said with an over-exaggerated "innocent" face.

"Looks like the waitress is here," Patrick pointed out half in relief and half as a warning to Pete to drop the romance and put back on his "just friends" act. Patrick adjusted the fedora on his head and smiled cutely at the woman.

The waitress however, did not seem to be too interested in Patrick. Pete, on the other hand, was her eye's prize. "I know this is rude, sorry, but can I get an autograph? And a picture please? I can't believe this is happening!"

Pete smiled in his smooth way that only Patrick could see the actual discomfort he was hiding. "Uh, yeah sure. Should Pat-"

"Don't worry, this is fine!" She pulled a phone out of her apron and crouched down next to Pete so she was level with him sitting in the booth. "Okay, say 'cheese'!"

"Cheese!"

She bounced back to standing so quickly her hair flowed around her. "Thank you so much!" She was putting her phone back when a sudden look of realization crossed her face. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I almost forgot my job! Um," She took out a writing pad and a pen as she shimmied out of her top a bit and leaned forward to give Pete a little show. "Drinks?"

Pete squirmed uncomfortably under the display in front of him. "Well, I'm sure my best friend is parched from all his lead singing." He winked at Patrick's slightly pouty face.

"Oh, sorry. What do you want to drink?" She asked with a tinge of bitterness in her voice.

Patrick smirked slightly when he understood Pete's wink. "Oh, I don't know…" He reached out and grabbed Pete's outstretched hand from across the table. "Probably whatever Pete gets."

The two of them avoided making eye contact with the waitress. "Patrick, you should get water. You don't want anything to damage that sweet soul voice of yours." Pete sneaked a look at the waitress who was turning a fine shade of red.

"But Pete…" Patrick whined with a very "for show" pouty face. "I haven't had pop in forever. It's so unfair!"

"It is too fair! You have a job to keep! But we don't have any tours coming up and it has been a while… we can share mine." He looked up to the waitress with pleading eyes. Internally, he was grinning hard at her flushed and sweaty appearance. This would fill her fanfiction dreams for years.

"I… Uh… Yes! That is no problem! One water and a… uh,"

"Coke is fine."

"Okay! A water and a Coke! No problem. But, do you mind… can I get a picture of the two of you?"

Pete smiled back over at his best friend. "If that's okay with Patrick…"

"It's fine, Pete. I don't mind the photos I take with you."

The waitress pulled out her phone again and stood behind the camera as she prepared to capture the couple. They were still holding hands and looking at each other—a bit too "romance" and not enough "bro" was evident in their gaze. Patrick was leaning forward with his head propped in his other hand.

"Thank you so much!" She blurted out, still flustered. She tucked her phone into her pocket. "I'll be back with your drinks shortly." She walked away a bit too quickly.

"Pete, you sly bitch." Patrick laughed once she was out of earshot.

"Please, we did her a favor." He said shifting back and folding his hands behind his head. "She's going to be thrilling herself on images of us for years."

"Pete!" Patrick immediately flushed and adjusted himself so he could kick Pete from under the table.

"Ow," He rubbed the sore spot on his leg. He huffed at Patrick's 'that's what you get' look.

Across the table, Patrick looked lost in thought as he analyzed the salads section. Pete scooted down the wide booth seat and patted the open space next to him. "Sit next to me?"

Patrick shrugged, but he didn't put up much of a protest before crossing the table and plopping himself down next to Pete. Pete quickly wrapped an arm around Patrick and kissed him on the cheek. Patrick's face flushed red and he slapped Pete away.

"Dude!" He looked around nervously for any onlookers, luckily there were none. "Do you want to make headlines in the _Enquirer_?"

Pete kept his hands to himself but he leaned his face close to Patrick's. "Hmm, that would actually be kinda nice. Ya know, for publicity and all."

"Shut up." Patrick punched him hard on his arm. "We talked about that already, remember? Now pick out your meal."

"You're so mean to me." Pete pouted as he flipped through the menu.

The waitress came back with their drinks. She looked calm down until she noticed the change in seating. She began to visibly heat up again. "One water, one Coke. Uh, I can take your order now… if you're ready of course."

"I am." Pete answered. He wrapped an arm around Patrick's shoulders. "Did you decide what you want yet, 'Trick?"

Patrick smiled brightly at his boyfriend—mostly for show. "I did!" He turned back around to the waitress and relayed the specifics of what he wanted on his salad, taking special care to make sure he was leaning well into Pete's embrace. He held on to Pete's arm that was wrapped around his chest once he finished ordering. "Your turn."

Pete propped his chin on top of Patrick's head. "I'll get the black bean burger."

Patrick twisted around in Pete's arm to look up at him. "You and your vegetarian-ness."

"I'll out-live you."

"Try again, old fart."

She cleared her throat to get the couple's attention. "I'll be back in a minute with your orders."

Once she left, Pete shoved Patrick off of him. "I am not an old fart."

"Please Pete, you're like six years older than me. You were already in college when I was a freshman in high school."

"Five. Now shut up. I really want to kiss you right now."

Patrick shook his head nervously and placed a cardigan covered hand to his mouth. "You can't."

"I know." Pete placed his head on his fist and looked out the window. "Just really wish I could, though."

Tugging down on his fedora with both hands, Patrick seemed to have realized the amount of space he was taking up on the booth. Which was not much, especially considering it was wide enough to fit three or four people. He doubled in on himself, squeezing his legs together and folding his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry."

Pete turned around slowly with a look of vague confusion on his face. "What do you have to be sorry fo-" Pete's expression crumbled when he got a look at the way Patrick was slumped down. "Aw, baby no. It's not your fault. We agreed on this together. It's okay. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Patrick gave a sad smile. Under the table, he grabbed Pete's hand in both of his. "I love you."

Pete placed his other hand on top of one of Patrick's. "I love you too."

And in that moment, they felt it. The warmth spread throughout their bodies as they looked into each other's eyes. A serene smile playing on both their faces. They may have wished for more contact, for Patrick to lay his head between Pete's shoulder and his neck, but it was okay. They would get their time. And sometimes, this type of connection that they shared right now was all they needed. Some things could really be sweeter than a kiss.

"You are so cute, Patty cakes."

"Not cute," He mumbled, "I'm manly."

"Hmm, we'll see just how manly you are when I've got you bent over backwards, screaming on my dick."

Patrick punched him in the stomach. Hard. He did not hold back. Pete may have coughed up blood. "Pete, what the fuck?"

"Ow, sorry. Fuck. I got carried away." He wiped his mouth on the sleeve on his shirt.

"Like hell you did." Patrick folded his arms. "And don't get blood on my sweater."

"Patrick, I'm dying." Pete coughed up more blood, this time, into a napkin. He raised his eyebrows when Patrick's only response was an eye roll. "You are really pissed at me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Pete. I am. I could break up with someone for that shit. I hate that."

Pete suddenly paled as much as his skin color would allow. "Patrick no… Please don’t."

"Oh calm down. I'm upset because I thought we were actually connecting on a real emotional level, when in reality, you were just thinking about fucking me. Really makes me think that my body is all that matters to you."

Pete stiffened as he sat up straight. His bottom eyelids squinted up as he peered at Patrick. "You… you don't really think that… do you?" Internally, he was repeating the mantra 'please don't break up with me. Please don't break up with me…' over and over again like a prayer.

"You know, I really don't want to believe that Pete. I love you a lot, but… this isn't the first time I've noticed you saying things like that, even though it may be the first time I brought it up… Um… earlier today, I heard you. You…" Patrick had to pause to swallow and take in a shaky breath; he was on the verge of actual tears. "You said you liked me better with more fat. You… you have a fetish, Pete?"

"Patrick…" Pete was looking at him with theatrically large eyes. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We can talk about this at another time, okay? In private."

Patrick shook his hand off. He was having none of it. He spoke at Pete through gritted teeth, his face was a deep shade of red fury. "Are you only attracted to my fat?"

"Patrick!" He shouted a bit too loudly. Pete grabbed Patrick by both shoulders and gave him a good, hard shake. Lowering his voice, he said "Do you doubt that I love you? Do you doubt that I've been in love with you for years?" Tears brimmed at his eyes. "Are you listening to yourself, 'Trick? You don't think that I've always loved you for who you are?"

His head was tucked down, so the only responses Pete got were light whimpers and little puppy-like shakes from Patrick. Pete knew he was crying. Pete pulled Patrick into a hug and Patrick buried his face into Pete's chest. "I am so sorry."

Pete rubbed his back lovingly, not taking note at the fact they may be showing too much affection in public. There weren't many people in the venue, and Patrick needed him right now. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I think this is just relapse getting the better of you."

Patrick pulled back to look at Pete. His face was a mess. He was burning red from his face to his eyes, and his cheeks were tear stained. "I'm going to go to the bathroom to clean up," he managed to choke out.

"Hey, give me your glasses." Pete plucked them from his face before Patrick even had time to protest. "They'll bring out your red eyes. You can just pretend you had a contact problem or something."

The sound Patrick made at that sounded somewhere between a cry and a chuckle. "I don't wear contacts, stupid."

"But they won't know if you cover your face." Pete smiled at him and gave a small shove. "I'll be waiting here for you. Take your time. And we're talking about this again later okay?"

Patrick nodded and whispered a quick "okay," before he ducked out to the restroom.

Once he left, Pete sighed and pulled out his phone. There was a snapchat of Joe making a great face with his child. Pete smiled when he read the caption "Manual not included. What do?" Pete took a selfie with his signature "picking my nose" face. He captioned it "Remove batteries. Works every time." He wondered how Bronx was doing at his ex's. It was her turn to watch over their child, but he did enjoy the phone call he shared with his son yesterday.

He tucked his phone away and sighed as he looked out the window. Why did Patrick have to deal with something so dark? It's always the purest people who have to deal with the dirtiest shit. And Pete wasn't making it any easier on him. Pete can't lie to himself. He does have a fetish. He admitted it to himself long before finding himself jerking off to pictures of Patrick he found when he Googled old pictures of the band. It was sick, but he couldn't help himself. He still feels ashamed at the time that he brought a camera into the bedroom and snapped photos of Patrick while they were having sex. Patrick was at his heaviest then. Pete told him it would just be for foreplay, but he took pictures of Patrick while he was full of dick as well. Patrick didn't like the camera at all, but he played along because Pete was so eager. He felt awful when he told Patrick he deleted the images. He deleted them off the memory card; they now resided in Pete's password protected folder on his computer.

But he loved Patrick. He loved the whole person Patrick was, fat or thin. Maybe watching Patrick fill out his clothes was more than just icing on the cake, but Pete loved what Patrick was as a whole more than he loved his fat. He just had to make sure Patrick knew that. It would be difficult; he never planned on Patrick finding out about his fetish in the first place. This would make his recovery so much harder. Pete internally kicked himself. Patrick didn't deserve this. Pete wondered how much more Patrick knew when he saw the younger man round the corner and regain his seat across from Pete. His eyes weren't crystal clear, but they weren't as enflamed as earlier.

Pete mouthed an "I love you" to him as he slipped the glasses back on Patrick's face. Patrick smiled back sweetly and took a sip of his water.

"Okay boys," Pete heard the waitress start from behind him. She took a few more strides and stopped in front of the table. "One house salad and one black bean burger." She placed each plate in front of the respective customer. "Anything else I can get you?"

Patrick smiled with his head low, purposely avoiding eye contact. "I think we're good for now," Pete answered for them.

"Sure thing, let me know if you need anything," She finished with a wink before walking off.

"Pete," Patrick looked up at him with a mix of hope and sadness. "I really, really don't feel like eating right now. You understand, right?"

Pete took a huge bite of his burger before replying to the question. "I know, 'Trick. But you haven't eaten much at all today. I don’t want you passing out at the club. So please…" Pete gestured to the salad in front of him.

"I can take it to go and eat it later."

Pete pulled out the fiercest look he could muster. "No you can't. Eat Patrick." He spoke again before anything could leave the sassy curve of his mouth. "You won't get fat from eating a salad, I’m sure of it. Especially a salad without dressing."

"I like salad without dressing."

"Yes, I like hay as well. Now eat."

They ate mostly in silence simply enjoying each other's company and the late afternoon scene from outside the window. The waitress came back with ink-jet printed copies of the pictures she took for the couple to sign, which they happily obliged to.

Patrick didn't finish eating his entire salad, but he ate enough to make Pete happy. He did opt for a to-go box and unknowingly dug his own grave because Pete would make sure it was gone by the end of the day. Pete signed the bill and left a $75 tip for their $20 meal.

They walked together back to through the subway system to Pete's house. They got stopped a few more times than on their way to town, mostly due to the fact that more people came out later in the day. Once they got to Pete's home Patrick shoved his box in the fridge and plopped down next to Pete on the living room couch.

Patrick gave him a look and Pete's heart started racing.

"So… are we going to talk about…?"

Pete ran a hand down his face and then through his hair. "Patrick, listen… I just—" Pete was cut short by the FaceTime ring going off on his phone. His reaction was over the top and he flipped out before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone. "It's Andy," He coughed out before fumbling and answering the call.

"Hey, brother!" Andy called from his drum room.

"Hey, Andy." Pete returned with less enthusiasm.

"Hi Andy!" Pete saw Patrick pop up from behind his shoulder via the viewfinder in the corner. He beamed brightly at their ginger friend from behind Pete.

"Patrick! I didn't expect to see you too! I hope I'm not interrupting a date or anything."

"We are on a date," Patrick shined back at him, "but it's okay. What's up?"

Andy looked a bit nervous on the other end. He ran a hand down his face and sighed. "My niece… she's turning sixteen and you know how that goes. Her and her friends are huge Fall Out Boy fans. I think you both know where this is going. It would mean a lot to her." Andy looked into the lens hopefully.

"Andy, you never have to ask me twice when it comes to a party," Pete replied. "When exactly?"

"Tomorrow night?" Andy gave a sheepish smile.

"Dude!" Patrick laughed. "You're lucky we have no lives!"

"You guys are the best." Andy let out a sigh of relief. "I've already got Joe on board."

"Hey," Patrick pipped up, "Ask her to email me her favorite songs."

Pete nodded. "Yep, and we'll have to make time for practice in case she orders some early things we're rusty on."

"Will do." Andy gave the thumbs up. "I'll get the details sorted out in the email."

"Sounds great." Patrick agreed.

Andy laughed on the other end. "Thanks so much boys. I'm gonna get going now; don't want to interrupt your date any more than I have to." He gave a quick wave.

Patrick and Pete gave their goodbyes and waved back before ending the call.

"Andy is so cute." Patrick commented as he shifted back to a comfortable position besides Pete on the couch.

"He sure is." Pete agreed, chuckling as he tucked his phone away.

"But not as cute as me, right?" Patrick asked. His voice contained a unique mix of genuine sweetness and bitterness.

"No, 'Trick." Pete held Patrick's chin and rubbed it lightly. "You're your own kind of cute." He gave a loving yet chaste kiss to his partner's lips. "It's so endearing. There's no question why I'm in love with you."

Patrick let his eyes flutter closed and hummed lightly. "I love you so much, Pete." He suddenly shivered and his eyes flew open. He looked off to the side nervously. "Pete, I think you're really hot. Sometimes I think I don't deserve you."

"Patrick…"

"No listen Pete." Patrick took a big exhale and squinted his eyes closed. "You've always been incredibly attractive—I've always thought you were attractive. You were beautiful from your eyeliner and straightened hair to when you wore it curly and even now that it's cut and blonde. I've always thought you've looked attractive no matter what crazy outfit you put on. Pete…" Patrick smiled at him bitterly. "I am always hot for you. Do I turn you off sometimes, Pete?"

"Oh no Patrick," Pete ran a hand down his face. "It's not like that at all." He sniffled and looked away unable to keep up eye contact. "I have so many things I need to confess to you because I love you and I don't want to hurt you anymore. I can't lie to you, Patrick. I really do have a fetish."

"No." Patrick whispered; he shook his head in disbelief. "You're lying. You're just saying that because I brought it up." Patrick stood up quickly and pressed his hands to his ears. "No, no, no." He was streaming tears. "Pete, I can't do this. I want to recover. This is toxic. This is what my therapist warned me about."

"I'm sorry, Patrick!" Pete let his head fall in his hands. He knew it was going to be bad when he finally let it out, but Patrick's reaction was more than he expected. He wishes he had never said anything. "Patrick, I love you. I've never found you unattractive."

Patrick was shouting now, his face red with rage, tears coming down in a steady flow, and Pete wondered if he would be able to sing tomorrow. "But you like me better fat! Do you want me to recover? Do you really? You just want me unhealthy again! Just on the opposite side! You want me to binge until I—" Patrick's voice was caught in his throat. He clutched a hand to his chest. He started wheezing uncontrollably.

"Patrick?" Pete jumped up to his side, but Patrick pushed him away with his other hand.

 Patrick shoved a hand into his pocket and fished around until he pulled out a rescue inhaler. Patrick took two puffs from the inhaler and coughed uncontrollably afterwards. He eased himself onto the couch, still breathing loud, shallow breaths. Pete lowered himself back down next to him. Patrick didn't turn his head, but he peered at Pete angrily from the corner of his eye.

Pete took a deep breath. "Patrick, I love you." Patrick made a grunt and flipped his head away. "I want you to be happy more than anything. I want to support your recovery. I am supporting your recovery. I love you too much to let a fetish be more important to me than your wellbeing. It's sick, I know. I'm sorry that I can't help it."

Patrick was breathing too heavily to illicit any sort of verbal response. He didn't turn his head around, but he twitched his fingers on his lap. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he reached his hand out and dropped it near Pete who got the message and held his hand.

"Thank… thank you." Patrick huffed out. "I'm glad you told me." He took a break to catch his breath again before turning his head to his boyfriend. "We're not perfect."

The tears brimming at Pete's eyes finally overflowed so the two of them had matching streaks down their cheeks. "No, 'Trick. We're not."

He squeezed Pete's hand and gave a weak smile. His breathing was calming down a bit, but Pete could tell he was still struggling. "I'm sorry for acting like you should be. You love me so much; you do your best, Pete. I love you."

Pete looked back at him with sad eyes. "I wish I could be better for you, 'Trick." He rubbed the back of Patrick's hand as he spoke.

Patrick coughed again. He shifted his body so that he could lean his head on Pete's chest. Pete instinctively wrapped an arm around his partner and rubbed at his arm gently. Patrick placed a hand to Pete's chest and gripped at the fabric of his shirt. "You're perfect for me."

"No, Patrick. I’m not." Pete shook his head.

"Shhhh," He moved his hand from his boyfriend's chest and placed a finger to Pete's lips. "You're human and you're wonderful. Besides, if you're not perfect, I'm not perfect." He giggled through his tears.

"You're as good as they come." Pete picked the fedora off Patrick's head and gently placed it next to him. Patrick looked so young and vulnerable without it. He laced his fingers through Patrick's hair, gently fluffing it and massaging his scalp. Patrick's breathing was quieter now. He let out a shaky sigh and hummed lightly in appreciation. Patrick slid his hand back down to rub at Pete's chest.

"Maybe…" Patrick began, "Maybe we shouldn't even bother with dates. I hate fighting with you. We should fuck and go home."

Pete gave a closed-mouth chuckle. " _Au contraire_. I think we're getting closer. Every time we fight, it's like we beat a boss battle in a video game. And the bosses will just get harder and harder, but that means we're winning."

"That's so cute, Pete. Let's put that in a song. I think your way with words played a big part in me falling in love with you."

"These words are only for you, baby."

Patrick smiled and only then did he realize he wasn't crying anymore. "Why are you so good to me?"

Pete adjusted himself in the seat to that he could look at Patrick eye-to-eye. "Because you're worth it. You're worth so much more too; I wish I could give you all you deserve."

"You give me more than enough."

Pete grinned at him. "I love you."

"I love you too."

\--

Hours later, the two were standing hand in hand inside the club. They stood on the upper terrace watching the scene play out below them. It was a sight to behold really; the hype before them was like no other club they've ever been to. The lights flashed in the order of the colors on the gay flag. People were so close to each other, the term 'grinding' wouldn't even begin to scratch the surface. And it also had that whole 'new club' vibe about it. The place probably couldn't be more than a few months old. They could just feel how strong the 'liberal' atmosphere here was. Girls were flashing their tits or laughing as their strapless dress slid down by 'accident'. Chicago was known for clubs like this; but Patrick was scared. This was some next level shit.

They were disguised well. Pete was taking the risk of being shirtless, but the chances of someone taking the time to decode his tattoos were slim, especially here. They both wore snapbacks, shutter shades, and light up raver necklaces and bracelets. Pete was wearing glitter gold spanks—Patrick believed it was a joke until the last possible second—and Patrick wore a tie and button down with the tightest leather pants he could find.

"Ready to get wrecked?" Pete grinned at him goofily.

Patrick made an expression that screamed "not really", but most of that must have been lost behind the glasses because next thing he knew Pete was waving and gone.

It wasn't rude, they always parted upon arriving at a club. It was just the fact that it was this particular club that made Patrick nervous. He watched the scene below him for a few bit longer, halfheartedly attempting to find Pete in the crowd. He would have a better chance at winning a game of Where's Waldo. He descended the stairs and headed over to the bar area. It was always a bad idea to socialize at clubs because it increased the risk of having his cover blown, but Patrick was not ready to step foot on that dance floor yet. He ordered a drink called "Left hand skank" and took a few sips before he was waved over to a table with two men standing around it.

The pair was so typical. One skinny, shirtless blonde boy who appeared twelve but was probably his twenties stood next to a more intimidating buff redhead. Patrick decided that Andy would probably be able to take this guy in a fight. Patrick also made the conclusion that the two either met tonight or were otherwise just recently acquainted by the distance between them.

"Hi!" The blonde called with a full tooth smile once Patrick approached the table. "I'm Jeff. You must be new here!"

Patrick tugged a smile unto his face. "What gave it away?"

"I can tell by your body language that you're uncomfortable. This place does that." He leaned forward and propped his elbow on the table. "Besides, I'd remember a cuddly boy like you. Rawr!"

He winced. He hoped the glasses covered up his expression. Jeff called him cuddly. He was fat.

"You here with anybody?" He redhead asked.

"Um yeah…" Patrick shivered under his unforgiving gaze. He was really wishing Andy was actually here. "My boyfriend."

"Aw! Do you hear that, Dirk? He has a boyfriend! How cute!" Jeff beamed at the redhead—who apparently went by Dirk. "Are you two committed? How long have you been together?"

"We've been committed to each other for over ten years now. I love him." Patrick didn't know why he added in the last bit.

The look on Jeff's face surpassed astounded by a long shot. "O-M-G! That is such a long time! He's obviously a keeper! Marry that guy!"

"Oh, we can't get married." Patrick internally kicked himself for answering without thinking, but he had an excuse. He had been spotted. It was a very skinny young man. He was shirtless, but was donning glitter coated silver spanks and shutter shades, although his lit up in multicolor. He was inarguably eyeing Patrick down from two tables over. Patrick felt himself start to sweat.

This was not good. This was a code red.

Once the man noticed Patrick had seen him he smiled back creepily. Patrick, too nervous to keep looking at him directed his attention back to Jeff.

"What? Hel-lo! Gay marriage is legal here now!" He was gesturing so hard the table was shaking. "What, is it your family or something?"

Patrick nodded slowly. His parents knew about the relationship for years. "Yeah, I could actually lose my job if news about my relationship were to ever surface." Patrick finally mustered up the courage to look back to where the man spying on him was standing. He wasn't there anymore.

"And you're taking the risk?" Dirk asked. "You must really love this guy."

"I do. I'll wait until retirement if I have to.

"I wanna meet him!" Jeff said clapping enthusiastically.

"Sure, if I can find him. He really loves getting lost in the club."

"That's a lot of trust there." Dirk commented with a nod.

Patrick scratched the back of his head. He never really thought about it but it was. It's not like he didn't know Pete was probably grinding—and possibly kissing—with other boys and girls on the dancefloor. Hell, he'd done the same thing himself at other clubs with Pete bouncing right next to him. It was fine. These nights were fun and they knew where their loyalties remained. Pete would never outright cheat on him; Patrick knew exactly where their limits were and he never even considered worrying about Pete cheating on him. He just blushed at the comment. "I guess that's just love."

Patrick was smiling at Jeff's fawning look when he felt someone tap on his shoulder. He turned around only to be caught off-guard by a deep lustful kiss that was full of tongue. Patrick screamed into the kiss and attempted to shove the person away, but they had him gripped by the wrists.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't expecting it to be the guy in the light up shutter shades at all, but he wouldn't be lying if he said he was balls-scared out of his mind.

The unknown man licked his lips and smiled sinisterly at Patrick. He wasn't very large, but he stood a good half a foot taller than him. He leaned down until Patrick could feel his beer laden breath on his ear, making the hair on his neck stand up. "Nice try, Patrick."

His pupils shrank in fear he let out a shaky breath as the man backed up enough for them to meet eye to eye—or shades to shades. The man was smirking hard him, obviously pleased to have Patrick under his thumb. Patrick didn't care how much money this man wanted. There was no way this would be leaked to the public.

Patrick squinted. The man had his face so close to Patrick's that their noses were practically touching. So close that Patrick could tell that the glasses were mostly made out of a clear plastic and that the lights illuminated the man's eyes behind the shades. The man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Patrick's heart skipped a beat.

"Brendon?" He mouthed.

Brendon nodded hastily and placed a finger to his lips before standing back up to full height.

"Is this the lucky guy? Is this your boyfriend?" Jeff asked enthusiastically, unaware of the scene that just took place before him.

"Hell no!" Brendon laughed. "His boyfriend is hot as fuck. I wouldn't be able to keep this cute little guy at bay."

"BB? That you man?" Jeff had an incredulous look on his face. "King of the club just kissed the newbie! Would you look at that?"

Patrick blinked in confusion. Brendon was probably going by BB here, most likely deriving from his first and middle name. That's easy enough to understand. But king of the club? This club? Brendon was a married man. Not like that usually stops him from perverted acts. He and Sarah probably had similar "long leashes" in their relationship as he did with Pete. But Patrick wouldn't be afraid to bet Brandon's was at least a mile longer. He's heard Brandon and Sarah go on about their love of "swinger clubs". To which Patrick quickly found out was not used to indicate a club inspired by 1920's swing dancing.

"Correct! King BB has graced you with his presence." Brendon spread his arms out in a very majestic way. "And this newbie and I go way back. I do also know his smoking hot boyfriend. He's a real good fuck too!" He bit his bottom lip and bended his arms for full on pelvic thrust action at his last statement.

Patrick whipped his head around and glared up at Brendon so fast, he could have given himself a case of whiplash.

"I kid, I kid. I don't play with my friend's toys like that. But man, I would ten out of ten let him tear my ass open!" Patrick wasted no time jabbing his elbow hard into Brendon's side. He knew Brendon was only joking around, but he could be very possessive of Pete at times. Also, as much as he loved and respected Brendon, and as much as Brendon loved and respected Patrick, given the opportunity, Patrick was not one-hundred percent sure that Brendon wouldn't rise to the occasion and try to get a good fuck out of Pete.

"I think I really want to meet this guy." Dirk said while rubbing at his chin.

"That's a great idea!" Brendon chimed in before Patrick could answer. "We'll try and find him. But don't wait up, okay? My buddy here has never been on this epic dance floor and I want him to get the 'full experience'." Patrick did not feel comfortable seeing the air quotes around the last two words.

"That's fine!" Jeff said. "Dirk and I still have some more 'talking' to get to."

"Well okay then." Brendon looped his arm around Patrick's. "The king is off!"

"Wait!" Jeff called. "I didn't get a name."

Of course, Brendon quipped up before Patrick could finish getting his mouth open. "He goes by 'Tricky' at these functions."

"Sexy!" Jeff commented with a smirk on his face. "I like it, very kinky! I should come up with a night name myself!" He blew kiss. "Bye King! Bye Tricky!" Dirk gave a goodbye wave as well.

Patrick could barely wait until they got out of ear shot. He was going to really let Brendon have it. "Where," Patrick started, "Do I even begin?"

"A 'thank you for the great alias, Brendon' would be a good start."

"It's a fucking stripper name!" Patrick shouted. He ran a hand down his face. "Okay, I'm going to ignore the part where you scared the shit out of me by just coming up to me as a complete stranger and making out with me—"

"It was the best way that I could get close enough and show you my face without taking my glasses off!" Patrick knew that was bullshit. Brendon just wanted a kiss; scaring Patrick was a bonus.

"—and ask you why they call you the 'king'."

"Because I own this club." Brendon stated as if it was obvious. He continued upon seeing Patrick's face; his mouth agape in disbelief. "Yep, you think a club this raunchy just pops up for fun? Sarah and I created it. Hence why there's actually hot chicks here. I brought Pete here a while ago but he wouldn't stay. He said he wanted you to see the place first."

It made sense. Pete probably thought going to a club like this without Patrick knowing would be crossing over into cheating territory. He was right though. Patrick would be very upset to find out Pete was sneaking off to a place like this behind his back.

Brendon picked up a handful of glow sticks off a table and handed some to Patrick. "So do you want to get down on the dance floor or…?"

"Brendon," Patrick sighed, "it's been a long day. Let's get wrecked."

The creepy smile Brendon gave him made Patrick want to eat his words as he was gripped by the wrist and dragged through bodies of people to a dense area of the dance floor. Once he settled on a spot, Brendon wasted no time pushing his body next to Patrick as he moved against him in slow body rolls. He turned his head and whispered into Patrick's ear, "Let's get a little kinky. Okay?"

Patrick swallowed hard. He wasn't a natural dancer like Brendon and Pete. He was really shy, and all the fat his body was carrying at the moment made him extra uncomfortable. A small part of Patrick wanted to say "no", find Pete, go home, and sit in his lap while watching a stupid movie. But Patrick really wanted to have fun. He had a stressful day and he just wanted to lose it all. However, he was still shocked to find himself mouthing an "okay" back at Brendon. He wished that he had finished his drink.

Brendon smiled and pressed his open mouth to Patrick's lips. Patrick hesitated before kissing back. It was weird kissing someone who wasn't Pete. It was weird kissing Brendon because his kisses were always sloppy and aggressive and kinky. Plus, Patrick new the man since they were just boys. It was like kissing a brother. But for as long as he knew Brendon, he knew that he enjoyed kissing his friends whether they were in a relationship or not. It was a way of showing his friendship. Still, Patrick suspects it could have something to do with his once full band becoming a duo.

He gave Patrick a weak smile. It was evident he could tell Patrick was uncomfortable. "Come with me," he said leading Patrick to the DJ area. Brendon waved his glow sticks in the air until the DJ looked down at him.

"King BB!" The DJ shouted removing his headphones.

"Hey, Drama! I've got a request! I want you to play 'Playlist D'!"

The DJ gave the thumbs up before sliding his headphones back on.

"Let's go, baby." Brendon began pulling Patrick back to the dance floor when he was called over.

"Hey King!" He turned and saw that it was Jeff calling. He was bent over nearly ninety degrees, dancing his ass into Dirk's crotch. Some 'talk' they were having.

He pranced over to them, towing Patrick behind. Once he got close enough, Jeff stood back up and began to dance with Brendon instead. The two of them wiggled their butts on each other as they swayed their hips. Patrick wondered if Brendon regretted his choice in bottoms at all; the spanks barely left anything to the imagination. Dirk came up next to Jeff and placed his hands on the younger man's hips, falling into rhythm and bouncing in time with Jeff and Brendon.

Brendon called Patrick over to the threesome with the crook of his finger. Patrick found his legs shuffling him over without his permission. Brendon grabbed his hand and flipped Patrick over so that his arm was wrapped around Patrick's midsection and his budge could invite itself between Patrick's ass cheeks. Patrick felt sick, mostly because it bothered him more that Brendon's arm was on his stomach than the fact that Brendon was about three layers of fabric away from fucking him.

Standing up straight and away from Jeff, Brendon flipped Patrick around so he could dance on him with their chests connected. He wrapped his arms around Patrick's neck and placed his face close to the shorter man's so his eyes were illuminated and visible again. "Please try to have fun."

Patrick was shocked. Brendon had a genuine look of sadness on his face.

"Is it me?" Brendon asked burying his head into Patrick's neck so that his face was no longer visible. He also stepped closer and grinded himself against Patrick's dick earning him a sharp inhale from the other man.

For as much as Brendon enjoyed acting like a devious little slut at times, he enjoyed being a good friend even more. And Patrick had to admit it, he didn't look like he was having fun. He hadn't smiled all night and he was barely dancing. But that's mostly because he wasn't having fun. He wasn't getting lost in the moment. Rather, he was too busy thinking about Pete and critiquing how vulgar the club was. He was the only one standing in the way of his own fun, because Brendon certainly wasn't; Brendon was always like this.

"M' sorry," Patrick breathed out into Brendon's ear. He moved his hands to Brendon's side and slowly slid them down to his hips. "It's not you at all. I'm just being an uptight bitch is all."

Brendon laughed softly into his neck. Patrick started to sway his hips a little. "Not a big deal. It's what makes you so cute and inciting."

Okay. Given the chance, Patrick thought, Brendon would probably fuck him too.

Brendon stood up straight again and gave Patrick a huge grin. "Just dance with me, okay?" Patrick was just noticing how often Brendon had to bend over to interact with him; no wonder he found him 'cute'.

He nodded his head and have an honest smile. Brendon looped their arms together and the two danced full heartedly until the end of the song; Brendon wiggling his lanky body to the beat as Patrick stepped in time in a more reserved manner.

It wasn't too long later until the DJ came on the speakers. "What's up, sluts?" The club screamed in response, jumping, clapping, and throwing their fists in the air. "I've got a special request for you all tonight from King BB himself!" The crowed screamed again, this time with a bit more enthusiasm. "This playlist is heaven sent for you little imps of hell. If you ain't ready to get down and dirty, the exits are located here, here, and here." The DJ gestured to different corners of the club in a similar manner to a flight attendant. "Now if you're still here, it's time to…"

"Get your skank on!" The club screamed back. Patrick was lost between confusion and fear.

V.I.C's "Wobble" started playing on the speakers and the crowd lost it. Patrick watched as Brendon and Jeff held hands for beginning part of the line dance. They wiggled their little asses for the forward movement and on the jump back, they bended over forward, dropped their hands to their knees and twerked their hearts out. Patrick slid his eyes to the side and saw Dirk was dancing as well, but with less hip movement, stiffly reciting the choreography. Patrick tried his best to let go and join in too. He was caught off guard at Brendon coming up close behind him and grinding on his ass on the turn. Brendon grabbed his cheeks and squeezed.

"I really wanna see you twerk this for me." Brendon whispered into his ear.

Patrick gave a small body roll into Brendon's body behind him, but he still shook his head. "No… I can't"

"But I've seen you do it before." A real string of confusion was evident in his voice.

'Because I wasn't fat then,' Patrick told himself internally. "I can't."

"Please? It'll be fun."

They had to turn in time with the choreography so they were now standing side by side. Patrick didn't want to, but he found himself nodding and whispering "okay".

He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. But Patrick talked himself into it. Nobody knew who he was, aside from Brendon of course, and Brendon was a good friend. And he really wanted to forget about how he looked and just have fun. He didn't want to think about the fat on his body anymore; he just wanted to let go.

So he did.

Patrick found himself dropping in time with Brendon on his right and Jeff on his left. He tried not to imagine how he looked, a fat person sandwiched between two stick skinny boys shaking his ass like he didn't care.

"Yas!" Jeff screeched clapping his hands. "Get it, Tricky!"

Patrick was blushing hard, but it was liberating. He even allowed himself to laugh and crack a smile at the cheers going on behind them. He heard people behind him shout things like "Twerk team!", "Get it!", and "Back it up!" Typically, Patrick would be put off by the comments, but they helped him get lost in the atmosphere of the club.

Patrick really enjoyed himself. He danced mostly with Brendon, but also with other partners that wound up next to him with the question in their smile. They must have been on the floor for over two hours. He enjoyed every song on Brendon's playlist—especially the remix of "Alone Together". Patrick felt slightly silly dancing to his own voice.

They were dancing to "Talk Dirty" by Jason Derulo; Dirk and Jeff were long since gone. Patrick felt like he had a very good guess on where they ran off to. He was dancing, grinding back against Brendon who had one hand surfing dangerously close to his dick. He tilted his head back and pressed his mouth against Brendon's for a passionate and sloppy kiss. It was open mouthed and hot as their tongues batted against each other. It wasn't like kissing Pete. Kissing Pete was passionate too, but it was also sweet like sugar. It was always felt more choreographed and organized. Kissing Pete reminded Patrick of a ballet.

"Brendon, I miss him." Patrick breathed out around his lips.

Brendon pulled away and nodded, smiling at his friend. "Kay, 'Trick. Let's go find him." Brendon grabbed his hand and dragged Patrick through the crowd as they searched for Pete. Upon turning a corner, Patrick tugged on Brendon's hand.

"He's there."

It was undeniably Pete; the tattoos have him away. He was dancing with two very tall girls in matching skin-tight outfits flanking him on each side. One girl had her hand under his chin and the other was rubbing at his chest. He had an arm around each of their waists. Pete was certainly having a good time.

Brendon smiled at Patrick. "Watch this," He told Patrick walking over. He placed a hand on each of Pete's shoulders. Pete's mouth dropped open and his eyebrows rose in confusion. He toyed with the hair on the back of Pete's neck. He gave an eerie smile and quietly whispered "Hey, Pete" kissing him before the other man had time to draw any conclusions.

"What the fuck?" Pete shoved Brendon off of him, but Brendon was standing in front of him, smiling relentlessly. "Bre-BB?" Pete made the realization and smiled wide. He held his arms out inviting Brendon in for an embrace. Brendon was never one to back down from a kiss. The two girls awed and squealed to each other as the enjoyed the sight of the two men rubbing against each other as they made out. Brendon pulled away leaving Pete with a serene smile on his face.

"Got you a present." Brendon said, gesturing to Patrick.

Pete's face lit up when he saw Patrick standing a few feet away. "Baby!" He shouted, opening his arms and stepping closer.

Patrick ran at Pete and jumped on him, wrapping his legs around his boyfriend's waist and hugging his arms to his neck. His weight was the last thing on his mind as Pete didn't even stumble when he held Patrick up. "I missed you so much."

"You had fun though, right?" Pete smiled up at him brightly. Patrick wishes that he could see his eyes, but he feels like he could already see the warm glow in them.

"Mm-hm." Patrick nudged his face into Pete's neck. "Thanks to Brendon."

Pete turned around to see Brendon socializing with the two girls. They were probably in awe about meeting the King. "He's a pretty fun guy, huh."

"He's a sweetheart." Pete ran his fingers over Patrick's spine soothingly. "Pete, I want to dance with you. And then I want to go home with you."

"Then we can dance under the sheets!" Pete joked lowering Patrick to the floor.

Patrick slapped Pete on the ass and gripped him. "Shut up." Pete removed a hand from Patrick's waist to make a zipping movement across his lips. Patrick picked up his footwork and started swaying with Pete to the beat. "You're mine."

"Yours." Pete mouthed.

He didn't kiss him, Patrick noticed. That's how their relationship worked. Brendon may go around kissing his friends all day to show his affection, but Pete and Patrick's relationship held the value of kissing to a different standard. They believed that some things were just better than a kiss. Not to say they didn't kiss often, because they sure did.

Brendon brought his girls over and the five of them danced until they were actually beat tired. Patrick lean and whispered "take me home" into Pete's ear. He nodded and bid goodbye to the two girls. Brendon was sure not to miss his goodbye kisses. He even gifted Patrick with a slap on the ass. Patrick flipped around, his face red with exhaustion and embarrassment.

"I wanna hang out sometime. Call me, okay?"

"Thank you." Patrick told him sincerely.

Brendon nodded. "I’m glad you had fun. Love you, Brother."

"Love you too." He gave a final wave before running off with Pete.

The two of them were giggling and falling all over each other as they walked hand in hand down the road to Pete's house, long since ditched their stupid shutter shades in a sidewalk trashcan. They always had taxis drop them off a fair distance from their homes to prevent their address from falling into unwanted hands.

"The moon's beautiful, Pete." Patrick commented as they walked up Pete's driveway.

"This whole night is beautiful."

Patrick hugged at his waist as Pete punched in the code on the security system to unlock his house. They didn't have a place for carrying keys tonight. Pete closed the door behind them him and leaned back against it. "Please sleep with me tonight. I need you."

"I've been trying to get in your pants since breakfast."

Pete laughed. He stepped closer to Patrick, slightly amused at his boyfriend's curious look when he did a small squat next to him.

"What are you do—wha!" Pete hoisted Patrick into his arms bridal style. Patrick instinctively wrapped his hands around Pete's neck, but his self-consciousness caught up with him quickly enough. "How… how can you even lift me?"

Pete took graceful steps to the stairs. "Baby don't start this. Why wouldn't I be able to pick you up? I lifted you earlier tonight and you didn't think a thing about it." Patrick could see the outline of Pete's growing smile by the dim light seeping through the windows. "Besides, I know you love being carried. You're such a little diva."

Patrick blushed and nestled his face into the crook of Pete's neck. He liked being carried; it made him feel thin. But he knows Pete is a strong guy too. He's seen him work out before. "Just wish I could be thinner for you…"

He sighed deeply, ascending the stair case. "If it's for me you want to hurt yourself for, you may need to reanalyze the situation." He climbed the rest of the way up the steps in silence, enjoying Patrick's warmth on his body. Patrick was usually very giddy and hyper when he wanted sex, but dancing at the club must have made him a bit more docile. "You're so cute." Pete commented, turning to head to his room at the end of the upstairs hall.

"I bite." Patrick nipped lightly at Pete's exposed collarbone.

"You're gonna have to do better than that. I don't mark easily like your pale ass does."

Patrick didn't step up to the challenge, he would save that for later. He noticed Pete had stopped moving, so he removed an arm from around Pete's neck to twist the knob and push the door open. Pete kissed Patrick lightly on his neck, barely brushing his lips against the skin as he crossed the room.

He doesn't know why, but Patrick was surprised to be eased down onto the bed rather than being dropped like deadweight. The moonlight flooded into the room, reflecting Patrick's wide glistening eyes on the bed. Pete decided it wasn't enough light, and he turned on the dim nightlight on his nightstand. He eased down on the edge of the bed next to Patrick. "You're so beautiful." Patrick slowly turned his head away. Pete dropped the hat off his head and let it fall to the floor as he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. "I just wish you could see that."

"I wish I could too." Patrick sat up and started undoing his shoelaces. Pete kicked his off using his ankles and pulled Patrick's hat off his head and on to the floor once he finished. He waited for Patrick to finish taking off his shoes and socks before discarding them on the floor as well.

Patrick reached his arms out to Pete. "Cuddle with me," he said, more a demand than a question. He had a slight pout on his face, and Pete couldn't help but feel guilty when his dick twitched at such an innocent gesture.

He pulled Patrick into his lap and flopped to his side. Patrick nestled his back against Pete's chest, tilted his head, and smiled up at him. Pete bended his legs slightly as he wrapped his arms around him; effectively acting as a protective force around Patrick as he laid curled up into a ball. Pete knew Patrick enjoyed this in particular, it was another one of those things that made him feel small. Pete laid soft kisses to his neck and Patrick smiled harder.

Pete let his hand that wasn't wrapped underneath Patrick wander. He rubbed gently all down Patrick's side from massaging gently at his shoulder to gripping a bit on his thigh. Patrick's eyes were closed now; he had a blissful look on his face as he let himself get lost in his boyfriend's touch. Pete brought his hand up again slowly, stopping at the faint curve of Patrick's waist. He remembers when it was a drastic bony drop from Patrick's hipbone, he remembers when it was sweet and fluffy from Patrick's fuller thighs. Right now it was faint, but Pete notices it still curves a little. He begins to slide his hand forward, but then he hesitates. His fingers twitch over Patrick's belly as he stops himself.

He can feel Patrick's breath hitch in his throat. His eyes are open now. Patrick hates it when Pete touches his 'imperfections'. They never go away either, even when Patrick would lay on his back, stretch, and make every bone on his rib visible. He still had 'problem areas'.

"Sor—" Pete started, withdrawing his hand. He gasped when he felt Patrick's warm hand on his, stopping his movement.

"It's… it's okay if it's you, Pete." Patrick's eyes were glassy. He didn't look at Pete when he spoke.

Pete was tempted, but he pulled his hand away. "No," he said shaking his head. "No. It's fine." He was caught completely off guard by Patrick rolling over him. He had himself propped up over Pete on straight arms and bended knees.

"It'll make you happy, right Pete? You spent years doing things that only make me happy." Patrick's eyes were still glistening as he fought to maintain any form of eye contact. His view kept falling to Pete's perfectly toned abs and chest. "And maybe… maybe it'll help some. Maybe it'll make me feel better." Patrick ran one of his fingers dwon from between Pete's pecs down to his abs. He laid his hand flat on Pete's perfectly sculpted abdomen. "I wish I looked like you."

He laughed lightly. "No you don't. You wouldn't be satisfied anyway. Then I'll feel insulted and you'll feel worse."

"You're right." Patrick forced a tight smile on his lips. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and straddled Pete's waist. Pete, of course, took advantage of the position and grinded his hips into Patrick's. Patrick gasped and moaned; he had to throw an arm down on the bed next to Pete's head to avoid falling off of his boyfriend. He adjusted himself slightly on Pete's waist so he could deliver a hard spank. "Kinky bitch!" He joked.

"You know 'Trick," Pete laughed, "You sure spank me a hell of a lot for someone who's never gotten my opinion on it."

Patrick's hand flew to his mouth and his face immediately reddened. "Oh wow, I'm so sorry. Does it bother you?"

Pete shrugged and looked away. "Not really. I don't mind it all that much." Smirking, he looked back at Patrick. "But if you think I'm going to bend over and call you 'daddy', you can shove it up your ass."

He ran both his hands around Pete's torso, enjoying the smoothness and the ripples under his palms. "What if I called you 'daddy'? Hm?"

Pete closed his eyes slowly. He was enjoying Patrick's ever gentle touch. But he knitted his eyebrows, earnestly contemplating the offer. "We can do that another time, okay?"

"Looking forward to it." He sat up straighter and withdrew his hands from Pete's body. He started undoing the tie around his neck. Pete's hands moved to Patrick's hips to stabilize him.

This was nice, Pete thought to himself. He could count all the times on one hand that Patrick had ever stripped for him. There were times when Patrick wouldn't even take off his shirt during sex. Right now, Patrick's face was beet red and Pete could tell he was sweating by the dim light. He wanted to comfort Patrick, tell him it was okay as he undressed him. But he didn't want to pressure his boyfriend. He wanted Patrick to feel comfortable if he decided to back out instead.

But Patrick wasn't backing out. He had his tie undone and it hung loosely around his neck. He moved his hands to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He was biting at his lip, looking away with worry laced into all of his features. When he looked down at Pete's lustful gaze, he shuddered. He pulled a hard smile and started slowly rocking his hips.

Pete moaned, using his hands that were originally placed to stabilize Patrick to his own advantage. He pressed a bit tighter on Patrick's hips as he grinded his own up into them. Patrick rewarded him with a breathy, open mouthed moan, never breaking eye contact. He could be such a tease when he wanted to.

Once Patrick had his shirt completely unbuttoned, which he took his dear sweet time doing, he didn't pull it open. It just fell slightly open around him. Pete unbuttoned his pants slowly. He continued to zip down Patrick's fly when he didn't protest. Pete was disappointed, although not surprised, to find out Patrick was wearing underwear. Patrick made cute little mewling sounds when Pete patted at his erection from his briefs.

Patrick played around with the hem of Pete's spanks. He still couldn't believe he allowed his boyfriend to leave the house dressed like that; it didn't hide anything but the color. He didn't need to pull them down at all to know Pete wasn't wearing underwear. He pulled the hem taught and suddenly let go. The huge 'snap' sound echoed throughout the room. Pete bucked his hips up, almost completely throwing Patrick on the floor as he cried out.

"Ow!" Patrick couldn't quite read what expression was on Pete's face when he looked at him, his eyebrows pushed together and his eyes slightly glossy as he looked at Patrick who was regaining his balance.

"I don't want you dressed like this out in public anymore. My eyes only."

"Sorry?" Pete couldn't tell if Patrick was being serious or not. He's worn stupider and far more suggestive things to clubs. He decided to ask, "Are you being serious?" Patrick smirked and looked away. Pete decided he was just joking. Which was good, because this wouldn't be the first or last time he went out in spanks. "Is my little Patty Cakes jealous?"

Patrick placed his hands on Pete's shoulders. He bent his arms and buried his face in the crook of his lover's neck. Pete picked up their slow grind and Patrick reciprocated. "No," Patrick breathed out between moans. "Not jealous. I know I'll always have you. I have no reason to be."

"You're so sweet, baby." Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick. "You will always have me. Then, is it that other people looking at me gets you all bothered? Is that it?"

Patrick whined. "I hate it when other people put you in their fantasies." He picked himself back up on straight arms and aligned his face with Pete's. "Because you're already taken."

"Are you mine too?" Pete whispered, already knowing the answer.

"I'm for nobody else but you."

They kissed. And they kissed in the unique way that only the two of them could together. Pete was more forceful precision and Patrick was warm and soft and good. They fit together. Patrick had his arms wrapped around Pete's neck as Pete had him in a tight hug, their hips moving sweetly into each other. Pete pushed Patrick over unto his back as they kissed, effectively swapping their positons. He pulled away and straightened up, completely in awe at the view below him.

Patrick was almost completely out of breath. Pete listened for any wheezing, but he was sure he didn't hear any. Patrick's face was splayed in red across his sweaty cheeks. His hands rested in loose fists near the sides of his head. Pete's eyes trailed down to where Patrick's shirt was spread open, revealing his soft abdominal features. Patrick's pants were halfway down his hips, and the head of his dick was poking out from the top hem of his boxers.

Pete ran his hands down his face as he sat between Patrick's spread legs. He couldn't believe it; this replica of a Roman god here didn't believe he was beautiful.

Patrick was smiling at him. He showed his teeth and his eyes were squinted nearly shut. Pete ran his fingers through Patrick's hair, and he giggled in response. Pete placed his lips to Patrick's neck, but he looked up in confusion when Patrick pushed his head away.

"We're preforming tomorrow and I'm not wearing a turtle neck."

"Okay," Pete mumbled, pulling himself back up. He placed a hand on Patrick's hip, running his thumb over the skin above his briefs. He slid his hand further up. Patrick's breath hitched. "I want to. Can I?"

Patrick screwed his eyes shut, but he let out a breath as he nodded his head. He pulled his shirt a bit further apart before sitting up slightly so he could shimmy out of it. He grabbed the sides of Pete's face and pulled him into a chaste kiss. "I really love you a lot."

"I know you do. I love you too." Pete felt guilty, but Patrick was giving him the opportunity to indulge in his long hidden fetish and he wasn't Pete Wentz if he wasn't going to take it.

He mouthed at the side of Patrick's pale belly, bringing his hand up to massage at the exposed skin on the other side. Pete put more force into his actions as he bit down on the skin under his teeth. Patrick let out a startled sound and Pete sucked on the spot. He pulled away and marveled at the stark red spot that he made. It would make for a wonderful bruise soon enough, claiming Pete's property. He pulled harder on the skin beneath his hand, knowing that would leave a mark too.

Pete looked up at Patrick who did not seem to be a very happy camper. Patrick was looking at the corner where the celling meets the wall. His stare was blank with a hand covering his mouth. His breathing was even like that was all he was concentrating on. When he realized Pete had stopped, he looked down at him, a small hint of confusion evident in his features. "What's wrong?" He asked innocently. Pete answered his question with a harsh stare. Patrick looked away again. "I don't like this very much, but it's fine, alright?" Patrick could tell Pete wasn't buying it. "I like your mark."

Pete kept eye contact with Patrick as he dipped himself down and kissed below his sternum, right above the bulge of his belly. Patrick closed his eyes. Pete slid his hands up from Patrick's thighs and gripped at the fat on his stomach. Pete couldn't hold back his moan as he groped around Patrick's stomach. He ground his hard-on into the sheets as he lapped near Patrick's naval with his tongue, stopping every so often to place soft kisses. Pete let his hands continue to slide up Patrick's midsection. He earned a startled gasp from his partner when he gripped Patrick's chest. He buried his face into Patrick's stomach. "You're so lovely."

He sat back up abruptly, his pupils blown. Patrick can't recall ever seeing this particular look on his boyfriend's face. "I love you so much," Pete panted out with the crazy look still in his eyes. Pete dug into his spanks to pull out his dick. Patrick licked his lips at the sight of it. Pete pumped himself a few times before busying himself with removing Patrick's pants—which was not an easy task considering how tight they were. Pete picked the spanks completely off his body and shucked them off to the side.

He played at Patrick's fluffy thighs with his hands, rubbing at them and groping at the fat there. He pulled Patrick's legs up and Patrick instinctively wrapped them around Pete's waist. Pete rubbed Patrick's shaft through his briefs with one hand as he continuing fondling his thigh with the other. Patrick moaned and dripped pre-come on himself as Pete touched him. Pete rubbed the exposed head of Patrick's dick, to which Patrick let out a few earnest cries, before pulling the underwear down and off Patrick's legs. Patrick reattached his legs to Pete's waist and pushed himself against his boyfriend.

Pete let out a strangled sound. He dipped his head on Patrick's shoulder. "You're so good, 'Trick." Pete slid his hands down from Patrick's shoulder blades to his ass, gripping roughly. He knew Patrick would be marked up in the morning, so he was trying his best to avoid any areas that sensible clothing wouldn't cover. Pete slid himself up Patrick's body and rubbed his dick into Patrick's stomach. His eyes connected with Patrick's, and his eyes were still dark and covered in lust. Patrick only bit his lip, not sure how he felt about the action.

Sitting back up, Pete tried to catch his breath as he spoke. "You haven't been having any fun all night, baby." Pete rubbed a hand on Patrick's thigh. "I wanna make you feel good too." Patrick only nodded in response. Pete reached over him and pulled the bottle of lube out from the nightstand drawer. He removed the cap using his mouth and wiggling his eyebrows jokingly. Patrick laughed and slapped Pete on the chest.

"C'mere baby," Pete said with a crook of his fingers. Patrick smiled and let his legs fall open. Pete coated his fingers in the lube and pressed his lips to Patrick's shaft. He stuck his tongue out and lapped at it as his finger circled Patrick's hole. Pete took Patrick into his mouth as he pushed his finger in. He bobbed his head slowly as Patrick wiggled under him, attempting to adjust to the foreign feeling. Soon enough, Patrick began whining and pushing his hips into Pete's hand. Pete laughed, releasing Patrick from his mouth, and pushed Patrick back onto the bed. "So rowdy, babe."

"Pete. You literally have your hand up my ass. I'm sorry I'm not acting like a Victorian virgin. Just fuck me."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. Just let me get you ready first."

He added in a second finger to please Patrick. Pete sunk back down and nipped at Patrick's soft thigh, causing the younger man to whimper softly. Pete started thrusting his fingers into Patrick, effectively distracting him as he felt up the area right below the bulge of Patrick's stomach with his free hand, biting down harder on his fleshy thighs.

Patrick was overwhelmed with the conflicting feelings of enjoying Pete's touch and hating his insecurities being highlighted as such. Regardless, he found himself panting out "More, Pete. Please."

Pete nodded and pushed a third finger into Patrick. He placed his hands over his mouth to cover his scream as the comforting pleasure spread from between his legs. Pete sped up the pace as he pulled on the fat on Patrick's side. Patrick looked down at him and Pete smiled back. "You're so perfect, Patrick." Patrick only turned his head away. He shrugged his shoulders minutely as his gaze drifted back to the wall. Pete pouted at Patrick's reaction. He adjusted his hands and pushed his fingers in at a different angle, smirking to himself at the result.

Patrick was a mess. He didn't have time to muffle himself and his scream filled the room. Pete knew he got lucky having a singer as his boyfriend. Patrick was falling apart under him. His face was flushed a deep shade of pink and his hair was damp with sweat as he panted for dear life. He was looking up at Pete with blown pupils. Pete did it again and watched Patrick groan and grit his teeth.

"Pete baby. I need you. Wanna come on your dick. Don't make me do it now."

Pete eased his fingers from Patrick's hole, laughing softly to himself at Patrick's tiny whine at the loss. Pete picked up the bottle of lube next to him. "I want you to ride me."

Patrick scoffed, but he took the bottle from Pete's hand. "You just want me to do all the work," Patrick said with a smirk. But he didn't seem to object to it as he placed a hand to Pete's chest and pushed him on his back.

"Love it when you work for me."

"Oh, shut up." Patrick crawled up Pete's body and delivered a quick, but passionate kiss. He sat back up between Pete's legs and worked the lube onto his hands. Patrick curled his fingers around the base of Pete's shaft and rubbed slowly. "You know, I didn't get to touch you much tonight."

"Sorry, I was too busy fondling my prize." Pete made grabby hands at Patrick, which earned him a nice bitch face. Patrick bit down on his teeth making a clattering sound as he pointed to his mouth with his free hand. Pete paled. "You wouldn't." Patrick only shrugged and Pete laughed it off. "Ya know, 'Trick. I've gotta get you a cute little outfit. Something nice and tight that squeezes you in all the right places."

Patrick let go of Pete's dick. He opened his palm, and came down on it with his other hand. Patrick regretted it, albeit a small amount, when the sound of the smack resonated throughout the room.

Pete hollered like a newborn.

"Patrick! What the fuck? You bitch." He had tears in the corners of his eyes. He held his hands up in a defensive 'x' in front of his face. "You're such a fucking cunt! That really hurt." Pete sniffled and let out a very shaky breath. "This is why I don't let you play with me."

Patrick slapped him on the side of his hip, Pete barely reacted to that. Patrick assumed it didn't hurt much by comparison. He pointed a finger in Pete's face. "You are not dressing me up in clothes like that. Got it?"

Pete nodded his head quickly in fear. But the hint on lust in his wide eyes gave him away.

Patrick placed his hand back on Pete's dick and rubbed softly. "You liked that, didn't you?"

"W-what? No!" He choked out. Patrick was giving him an unwavering stare. "Okay… maybe a little." Pete threw his hand out and waved it in warning. "But don't do that again! I'm not sure I'll live. I don't really think the pain was worth the pleasure on that."

"Also," Patrick slapped the side of his hip again, this time hard enough to make Pete yelp. "Don't call me a 'cunt'."

Pete flopped down on the bed with his arms wide out to his sides. "Understood." He tried to focus on the soothing circles Patrick made with his thumb as he rubbed him up and down.

"M'sorry," Patrick mumbled. He kissed the burning red head of Pete's member. "I'll suck your dick to make it up to you. Whenever you want."

He shrugged. "It's whatever." But internally Pete was screaming 'Not okay! Hurt like a bitch!' "Besides, you'd suck my dick regardless."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I love you." He looked up at Pete with his famous puppy eyes as he took the tip into his mouth, gently lapping at it with his tongue.

"Manipulative bitch." Pete groaned out. "I love you too. Now sit on my dick."

Patrick laughed and pulled his mouth away with a 'pop' sound. He climbed up Pete again and placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders. Pete's hands moved to hold Patrick by his sides. Patrick withdrew one of his hands to line Pete up with his hole. He locked eyes with Pete and smiled, panting lightly. He groaned quietly as he eased himself down, taking all of Pete in one go. He sat up straight and cried out as he took time to adjust to the feeling. "So good, Pete. You're so big—always stretching me out."

Pete let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Flattery will get you very far." He slid his hands up and down Patrick's sides. "You're so hot, baby."

"Ah," Patrick started rolling his hips slowly, creating a pleasurable friction inside him. He placed one hand on the bed and folded the other one by his side, gripping at his own shoulder as he grinded at his own pace. He looked down at Pete who was fawning at him with lustful, but mostly loving, eyes. Patrick on the other hand, has a hot mess. His mouth was hanging open as his breath came out in hot puffs. He had a red line of blush across his face running over his nose from cheek to cheek, and he was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His entire torso was exposed, but he wasn't caring about that too much. He moved his hand from his shoulder to rub over his chest; it was a rather shitty job of covering himself up. Patrick screamed when he rolled at a different angle, hitting his prostate and sending ripples of pleasures through him.

He used his thighs to pick himself up and drop again, emitting a loud 'smack' sound each time.

"Yes, baby! Yes!" Pete gripped Patrick's hips and thrusted up into him along with his movements, the two of them falling into rhythm.

Patrick was grateful for Pete's strong grip to his hips; he was so overwhelmed by pleasure, he forgot to hold onto something, folding his arms up in front of his chest instead. He was singing now. The incoherent moans rolled from his lips like a tune as he directed all his attention to picking himself up and dropping again on Pete's lap.

"I just love it when I got you singing for my dick. Gotta be one of the hottest things out there."

"I will beat you." Patrick attempted a threatening look, but he was unable to take himself seriously in his positon, ending up laughing instead. Patrick placed his palms on Pete's chest, trying his best to not apply to much pressure as he got more leverage. Pete slammed into him with full force at just the right angle. Patrick screamed with no holds. He fell against Pete's chest, withering and letting out small melodic sounds in time to Pete's thrusts. "Pete," he whined, his boyfriend's name casually falling from his lips.

Pete ran his fingers through Patrick's hair as he breathed hot pants into his ear. "You're too good. Should be illegal."

Patrick propped himself back up again on straight arms. He had his hands by Pete's side as he hovered over him, still working back into Pete's thrusts. He was breathing heavily above him. Patrick's mind had gone almost entirely to mush; he could only think of pleasure and the love he had for the man underneath him. Pete smiled at him, mouthing 'I love you'. Patrick smiled back, his eyes teary with pleasure. Patrick moved down on one forearm as he used his other had to trace around a few tattoos on Pete's chest, their foreheads melting together as they moved their hips in time with the rhythm. Pete ran his fingers lovingly up and down Patrick's spine until he rested them on the small of his back.

Pete brushed against his prostate again and Patrick shot back up shouting. He was babbling and moaning as he bounced on Pete's waist, completely lost in the feeling. He was slamming himself down at full force, causing groans to escape from his partner. His dick was bouncing delightfully in time with Patrick's hard slams, precome flying out as it seeped out from the tip. Patrick shot his eyes open wide as he looked back down at Pete. "Pete. I'm so close."

Patrick cried as his boyfriend grabbed his member, stroking at full force. Patrick gripped Pete's shoulders hard enough to leave a mark as he continued to push himself back down into Pete's thrusts. Patrick pushed his forehead against Pete's again as he panted out.

"Come for me. Please."

Patrick let out a long high pitched whine as he hit his limit. He was too overwhelmed by Pete's hand stroking him combined with the hard thrusts tackling his prostate. He let out a loud gasping scream when he let go and came all over himself and Pete. He was babbling out Pete's name nonstop like a chant as the ripples of his orgasm ran through his system. He fell weakly onto Pete's chest, who was still relentlessly ramming into him. "I want you," He whispered on Pete's torso.

Pete lifted Patrick by the armpits, gently lifting him up and placing him back down on his back. Patrick's hands fell by the sides of his head; the expression on his face showed he was completely spent from his orgasm. Bending his legs, Patrick moved his legs as far apart as he could as Pete adjusted himself above Patrick in this new angle. Pete let out a low whistle as he looked at the sight below him. "So hot," he managed to breathe out through his pants as he kept pushing himself into Patrick. He watched as his hard thrusts caused the fat under Patrick's skin to jiggle with his movements. Moaning, he placed his hands on Patrick's belly and roamed around his stomach. "You're so beautiful, babe." Patrick was still smiling up at him, but his eyebrows were knitted inwards and he only looked a tad bit upset.

Pete gripped on the skin of Patrick's stomach, no longer holding himself back as he tore himself inside and out of Patrick's swollen hole. "Gonna come soon, 'Trick."

"Yes!" Patrick shouted. "Do it! Please!"

Grabbing Patrick's hands, Pete pushed his body forward onto his boyfriend's as he worked himself to his climax. Patrick was smiling at him so sweetly. He had tears at the corners of his eyes, but he was grinning from ear to ear. Patrick gripped his hands tighter, whispering "come on babe" as he locked eyes with Pete, coaxing him on.

Pete was thrusting into Patrick with so much force that Patrick's hips were lifted off the bed. The feeling of Pete inside him was overstimulating Patrick's already spent insides, so he clenched down around Pete. Pete let out a strangled sigh as he pushed all the way into Patrick, finally hitting his orgasm and expelling himself inside.

Patrick's face began to redden again. His smile slowly faded into a look of bliss as his eyes rolled back at the feeling of Pete filling him up. Patrick let out a faint cry at the feeling. He looked up at Pete who had his eyes closed, completely out of breath and huffing above him. Pete gave a few more thrusts in for good measure as the last of his orgasm made its way through his system. He sighed and eased himself on Patrick's chest. "You take the breath out of me. I'm getting too old."

"Not old," Patrick muttered, fluffing his hair. "You're still fresh."

Pete laughed, vibrating Patrick's chest with his sound. He groaned and pushed himself back up. "I've gotta get us cleaned up. I wanna just lay here with you, but I doubt you want to be covered in crusty come when you wake up."

"No, I don't," Patrick giggled.

Pete pulled his softening cock from Patrick's hole, watching as some come spilled out in its wake. "Nice," Pete commented.

Patrick realized what he was looking at and threw a pillow at Pete's head. "Shut up!"

Laughing, Pete hopped off the bed and made his way to the master bath. He ran a washcloth under warm water and wrung it out. He wiped his stomach clean before rinsing the towel off and wringing it a second time. He flipped a dry one over his shoulder and exited the bath. He came back to the room to find Patrick with an unhappy look at his face, poking at his stomach. Pete sighed and climbed the bed over to him.

"They're almost all gone, Pete." Patrick looked up at him with wet eyes. The confused look on Pete's face must have said it all. "When I told the doctor about my stretch marks, she said to apply a vitamin E oil. It faded the scars too."

"That's great, 'Trick." Pete pulled a smile on his face as he rubbed the washcloth on Patrick's stomach before moving downward to clean the mess he made at his hole. Pete started drying Patrick off with the second towel. "I'm really glad they're gone."

"I know." Patrick gave Pete an obviously fake smile, and Pete didn't even try to decipher what it meant as he tossed the towels off the bed. Pete wiggled himself under the covers and Patrick followed, hugging onto his boyfriend as Pete pulled the covers over them.

"I still want to do it sometimes," Patrick whispered. It was so quiet that Pete wasn't even sure he heard him. But the wetness he felt on his chest were inarguably Patrick's tears.

"No, no, no." Pete rubbed Patrick's back soothingly with the heel of his palm. Pete remembers all of it. He remembers when the lines first appeared on Patrick's stomach and he refused to say anything about it. He remembers when more appeared and Patrick just screamed and hit him and shut him out saying he "didn't want to talk about it." But he also remembers when he returned early from a record label board meeting. He stopped by Patrick's house, hoping to pleasantly surprise him by moving their evening plans up earlier. But he noticed something odd when he peered in the crack of Patrick's bedroom door. Eerie reverse sounding music was playing as Patrick stood naked in front of his trifold mirror. He had a knife in his hand and he was carving into his stomach. Not just lines, but words. He was carving out the word 'fat' when he dropped the knife. He was looking at Pete, standing fully exposed in the doorway, through the mirror in front of him. He was unable to move out of shock and fear. Patrick dropped to his knees, buried his face in his hands, and hollered out the loudest cry Pete had ever heard from anybody. That was in 2007.

Patrick was having these thoughts again.

"You're so much stronger than you were then. You're talking about recovery now, Patrick. You can kick these thoughts in the ass."

"I know." Patrick gasped through his sobs. "I know, but it's hard. You don't know how hard it is, Pete. I have these thoughts every day."

"I believe in you, 'Trick. I'm here for you. I'll do the best I can to help."

"I know you will." Patrick looked up at Pete with a smile and wet eyes. "But for now, just hold me. Okay?"

Pete wrapped his arms tightly around Patrick's waist. He laid his chin on his head and listened to Patrick's soft sobs as he gripped Pete's waist with all he had. Pete listened as the crying faded out and was replaced with the soft, even breaths of sleep. Only when he was certain that Patrick had fallen asleep did Pete allow himself to drift into unconsciousness. He let out a deep sigh, "I'll always be here to hold you." After a few moments, he fell asleep, cradling Patrick in his arms.

And they didn't kiss tonight after sex. They didn't kiss when Patrick confessed the dark thoughts he had been growing. They held each other in their arms and poured their feelings into each other's hearts. Because although kissing was nice and they did it often, it just meant something different to them. And there really were other things out there in the world that mean more than a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first porn/AO3 fic. I can see there are a lot of things I need to work on such as smoother transitions and varying reaction in emotions. Message me if you notice any spelling/grammar mistakes or just general advice. It's weird because even though this story is long af, I feel like it's too fast pace for the smooth easy Sunday feeling I was going for in the first half. Constructive criticism is highly encouraged! I think I'll write a sequel to this, but I don't have any other fics planned so you can send me a prompt (I have so many weird kinks it's insane. I'm just not a bdsm fan surprisingly. That shit turns me off faster than a light switch). So thank you for the warm welcome and I hope to post more sometime!
> 
> [Edit]: So if you can't tell by my long-windedness, I love to chat! And I still don't have any friends on the Archive. My extroverted-self is crying!! Send me an email at therealtrashqueen@gmail.com or visit me at qualitygarbage.tumblr.com!! ILY!!
> 
> [Feast](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3512882) | [If Only For One Night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2149008)


End file.
